YzarMeia: The Star of the Higurashis
by ghostleaf
Summary: Kagome's family is murdered by the almost-Lord Sesshoumaru, at the orders of his father. She is left alone and isolated for ten years, until forced to leave her family and search for human contact again.


Yzar-Meia: The Star of the Higurashis  
  
Chapter one: Herald of Dawn  
  
A five-year old girl peeked her head out from behind the door to a rundown old church. Her father stood in the courtyard, beautiful and unearthly in the approaching dusk. As if sensing her, he looked up, his bangs fluttering into his eyes before he hastily shook them away with a few flicks of his handsome head.  
  
"Kagome," he called softly, smiling and beckoning with a strong, beautiful hand.  
  
Slowly, the girl with the large blue eyes left the comfort of the door and ran across the emptiness of the courtyard to the tall figure. Her white nightdress making ghostly whispers about her legs as her bare feet met with the freezing stone of the courtyard with a light patter.  
  
The wisps of grass that grew between the cracks in the stone talked lowly among themselves ominously as a cold breeze blew, throwing Kagome's waist- length hair up to the side, perpendicular to the ground. Her father leant down on one knee, bringing her close and brushing stray strands of ebony hair from her delicate, pale face in one smooth movement. Positioning her back to him, he pointed with a solitary finger to the horizon beyond the broken courtyard wall. A single, modestly shining star perched on the end of the world, a testimony to all that was perfect and beautiful in this universe.  
  
When her gaze was caught, he lowered his hands to her shoulders, talking into her ear. "The Star of Yzar-meia, Kagome... our star. The star of the Higurashis... see how it shines, there?  
  
"A new dawn is approaching, it heralds. The eve of change." His voice faded with those solemn words, getting caught up in the web of his own thoughts.  
  
Another cold wind forced Kagome's head down to shield her face, her eyes looking only at the cracked, homely stone. "What kind of change?" Her voice piped in her own ears, shrill with both youth and apprehension.  
  
The man returned to himself and hugged her around her shoulders, his voice warm and hearty again. "Who can tell?" He turned her to face him. The warmth of his palms entered her shoulders as he clutched them. Running his fingertips lightly along her cheek, he regarded her solemnly, his eyes the same blue as hers, charged with electricity, charisma. "Remember always, Kagome, that you are firstborn!" His speech was harsh but soft and caressing. "Souta may be the son, but you are gifted with the power of our family."  
  
Slowly, the enigmatic flare in his eyes died away, and his well-worn yet handsome face gave way to a smile. A tired, wan smile, that brought out the mirthful wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Standing slowly, he looked to the horizon once more. She shivered from the sudden lack of warmth.  
  
"Go help your mother with dinner."  
  
"Will you tell me about the Great Oni again?" she asked softly, hardly daring to let her own voice wrench away the magic of this moment.  
  
He laughed, shaking his head. "My love for the surreal spreads to you. Your mother will not be pleased." He continued staring into the horizon, at the star.  
  
She persisted. "Will you?" She grasped his pant leg pleadingly.  
  
He looked at his daughter over his shoulder, and the flare lighted again, somewhere deep inside him. "After dinner, lovely."  
  
Stroking her hair one last time, he pushed her gently in the direction of the old church.  
  
He watched the girl walk to the church, hesitation evident in every step. She stopped and looked around every few steps, as if sensing him like he knew the girl's father must. When she disappeared behind the door with a last, sweeping gaze at the courtyard, he stepped out of the shadows to approach Mr. Higurashi.  
  
Higurashi did not look at him, but kept his gaze steadily at the door, a habit which did not cease to irk him. "What are you doing at my home?"  
  
"You should know as well as I. The treaty was broken, and this displeases my father greatly."  
  
Higurashi turned his gaze to the horizon, the Star of Yzar-meia. He shrugged his hands into his pockets as he looked, looked to his hearts content. "When do you succeed him, Sesshoumaru... sama."  
  
The pause caused the other to stiffen and raise his head in indignation. The moonlight flickered across his striped face, adolescent, not a boy but not a man... yet. The face of many doubts and forced confidence. "Soon."  
  
"When?" he pressed calmly.  
  
"That is all you need to know. After all, you'll not be conveying the message to anyone." With that, Sesshoumaru unfolded his lightly curled hands at his sides, the claws lengthening and increasingly deadly. To his annoyance and deep insecurity, the human continued to watch his star calmly. Relaxing his shoulders, he sighed, letting the emotion of regret overcome him for a few moments. It was not often he could give way to the guilty pleasure of emotion, and he allowed himself to sap as much as he could from this one. "I am sorry it had to end this way. You are an honorable man, but the bidding of the sovereign can not be ignored... even by me. May your spirit last undefeatable, unquenchable, and forever with the heart of the man that once wielded it with fire and glory."  
  
Higurashi turned to him, and Sesshoumaru realized with discomfort that his eyes were glazed, watery. The human smiled waveringly. "A demon's eulogy, Sesshoumaru-sama? Such honor for a lowly worm of a human?" His eyes crinkled with a smile. "I am glad to go at your hands, lord."  
  
Sesshoumaru's expression didn't flicker, but his eyes softened at the corners. "The girl. She has considerable power for her age," he said with a business-like tone, pushing the emotion welling up in him down, down, down. Deep inside of him, where it could stop hurting and finally be numb and pain-free.  
  
"Don't hurt her."  
  
"I cannot be held to such a promise."  
  
There was silence in return.  
  
Sesshoumaru tried again, and even he could not keep the apologetic note from his voice. "Your entire family must be eradicated."  
  
"No." There was such anguish in that single syllable that even Sesshoumaru flinched.  
  
"It has to be," he choked out. Push it down. Push it down. Away so I can finally be numb.  
  
"No!" Higurashi's eyes connected to his, almost crazed with grief. "You will not lay a hand on them! I forbid it!" The man seemed to sense this was the wrong thing to say and immediately silenced, his lips pursed and tears threatening to fall from his weak, weak eyes.  
  
That was what Sesshoumaru needed. Collecting his breath in relief, he opened his eyes and fixed the ice of his eyes on the man. "You forget your place, Higurashi. Your wishes shall no longer be carried out. May you rest in pea--"  
  
"Kagome!" Higurashi screamed. "Kagome! Run! Take Souta and run!"  
  
Sesshoumaru growled, his fists clenching. "Silence!" he yelled desperately, shutting his eyes to block out the sight of the man's embarrassing tears. With a burst of super speed, he rushed forth, his claws angled for the victim. Green smoke followed in his wake. Out of the corner of his eye, a small figure appeared in the door way as his poison claws slashed through Higurashi's throat and across his chest.  
  
The smell of burning flesh filled the courtyard rapidly as the human's body, now on the ground, jumped and sputtered in reaction to the poison. His eyes were already wide and glassy, dead. But his body rejected the poison with its last ounce of strength. In a last burst of self- preservation, red-green froth bubbled from his nose and mouth as his torso gave a last, hopeless kick. A low, bubbling splutter came from low in his throat.  
  
Sesshoumaru looked ahead blankly, his bangs shadowing his eyes. The moon was the only one to witness the rogue trail of salt-despair run down his cheek to his chin. His breath came harshly, his teeth gritted. Sickness spread into his stomach at the sight of the human's dead body.  
  
"NOOOO!" a screech erupted from the church, filling the night sky with its frenzied emotion.  
  
Turning his body rather than his head, Sesshoumaru saw the frail human woman take flight towards the dead body, a baby cradled in her arms. The baby was half of the noise, he realized with morbid fascination. Rotating swiftly on his heel, he had only to take a single step before the woman ran herself and her child into his waiting claws.  
  
The baby was silenced immediately, and the quiet seemed to fill the small space to a bursting point. Its eyes were wide, it's mouth open in a silent scream, the mottled red of his crying face fading away to a dull white. The woman gave a small gurgle, her eyes opening inhumanly wide, showing whites on every side of her iris. She stumbled in fast motion forward onto the body of her late husband, the baby sandwiched between the two. As the acid sliced into her middle, her legs and waist slowly disconnected from the rest of the body, coming to a rest beside the small pile of bodies. It sizzled sickeningly, eating away at the exposed flesh. More froth came from the area of disconnection, spreading in a pool around the bodies.  
  
Sesshoumaru looked at the bodies briefly before facing the open church door. He stood just beyond a yellow square of light cast by the fire beyond the threshold. Stepping forward with purpose, he cracked his knuckles and his wrists. He paused but once as he caught sight of her.  
  
Even a measly human could have seen the quivering ball of rags behind the door, could have heard the stop-and-go of the girl's sobbing cries.  
  
Kagome was sitting, her heels brought in tightly to her rump and her arms about her knees. Whimpering, she attempted to press her forehead farther into her lap as she heard his soft cloth shoes make contact with the dusty stone. His billowy pants rustled against each other.  
  
Suddenly, she was hit with a clear-cut memory.  
  
Her father was standing in a small alcove, a tiny fire all the lighting it needed. He was cleansing a blade, a short dagger. Finishing, he turned to find with surprise that she had entered.  
  
He crouched, holding out his arms for an embrace as his face slowly metamorphosed into a broadly smiling one.  
  
She ran into his arms thankfully, her small hands gripping the cloth on his shoulders. She buried her nose deep into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of her father. He smelled of fresh-cut wood and good soap. He released her from his grip and turned her attention to the dagger he had been cleaning.  
  
"Kagome, look at this blade. Do you see what I see?"  
  
"I don't know," she said honestly.  
  
"I see you. Your reflection in this dagger. And look at your eyes! See how they glare straight ahead, unafraid of whatever might challenge them! A warrior's eyes, daughter."  
  
She looked closer into the blade. She didn't see anything special, just her clear, blue eyes.  
  
"Never look away, Kagome. You're stronger than that. Never look away from whoever may oppose you... for to see your enemy, to show him that you are unafraid, is the most beautiful thing one can do."  
  
Closing his eyes did nothing to keep the look of appreciation from his face as he embraced her.  
  
"Promise me."  
  
"I won't ever look away, Papa," she promised fervently.  
  
Her shivering had stopped. Keeping her head lowered, she slowly unfolded herself and stood straight, her hair shielding her face. Then, as if by magic, the fire silhouetting her burst into a wild cacophony of sparks and flame as she through her hair back proudly and weighted him with her hefty glare.  
  
He was stopped now. He was stuck midstride, his one foot slightly ahead of the other, the toe not quite lowered to the ground.  
  
He was beautiful, she realized. His snowy white hair fluttered softly in the breeze, playing hide-and-seek with his proud face-markings. A fluffy cloud of a tail was wrapped about his shoulder, and his eyes glittered like molten gold. He was a being that never got dirty, someone who dust never settled on.  
  
Beyond that of which she'd ever know.  
  
She was beautiful, he realized. Standing tall and proud, her pale porcelain skin cast half in shadow from the flickering firelight. Her blue-black hair grazed the bottom of her back, messed from her previous actions but somehow looking right that way. She looked like a lion, her hair in a nimbus about her as if it were charged with power. Her eyes were chipped from ice, but they melted with emotion when she looked beyond him to her defiled family.  
  
Two trails marked the smudge of dirt on her face, a eulogy to tears of her own. The tears of her lifetime.  
  
Even in her sorrow she gathered comfort in herself, forcing herself to stand taller, straighter, better. She glared harder, narrower, stronger than she ever had in her entire life. Forcing her weakness into herself, she raised her chin defiantly. A silent vow of imminent death stood between them like a river of tumultuous and treacherous wants and desires.  
  
"Not many would look me in the eye, child," Sesshoumaru murmured thoughtfully. Why was he deigning to talk to her? She would be dead in seconds. Maybe as a last meal, sort of. An acknowledgement to the dying and dead.  
  
Her voice was ragged with as-of-yet unshed tears. "I am not many. I am Kagome," she stated simply with her childish voice. She had the voice of a princess... a native, proud, beautiful princess-child.  
  
At her name, the fire behind her once again flared dangerously, sparks flying about her charged hair. The sparks settled about her as if it belonged there. She lifted her chin more, as if it were she that were deigning to talk to a lesser person.  
  
Sesshoumaru took an involuntary step back. Then, with the speed of thought in dream, he spun around and left through the gap in the courtyard.  
  
Deprived of her last pillar, Kagome crumpled to the floor, her forehead to her knees as sobs wracked her body. Her low, keening cries reached the ears of the young demon lord-to-be. Turning his back on the last tugs on his heartstrings, he walked.  
  
The first kill was of the family of the girl. But not his last.  
  
He screwed his eyes shut and fell to his knees, bringing his palm to his eyes and forehead as his chest shook with pent-up sobs.  
  
Not his last.  
  
He spent the trip home encasing his heart in ice. The ice of the eyes of the girl who's family he killed to save the empire of a dynasty of a family who was blind to the suffering of those beyond themselves. His chest became heavy with the burden of his encased heart. A burden he would learn to bear, as he would his unwrinkled, unemotional face.  
  
Never his last.  
  
A fifteen-year old girl peeked out from behind the door to a rundown old church. Boldly, she stepped out and looked about her, at the familiar broken wall and the grass, growing everywhere. She raised her eyes to the sun, squinting. Small, dainty feet slid down the few steps and onto the grass over-running the old courtyard.  
  
In the middle of the courtyard, a single wooden cross stood erect and woeful. She winced as the screams of the memory of that night ripped through her mind unmercifully. Shaking her messily-cut bangs out of her eyes to clear her head, she took wide strides over the remaining ground to the grave, her feet feeling every nook and cranny of her home since she was born.  
  
She dropped to her knees. Lowering her head to both show reverence and hide the glistening tears, she brought her clasped hands to her forehead.  
  
Kagome knelt.  
  
She was still there. After ten years of solitude, of having to forage for food out in the fields beyond the church, she persisted to live. Sesshoumaru glared at her kneeling figure, appearing unruffled. What was she doing here still? She should have died by now.  
  
Her aura was held tightly in check, and he was sure that not even she knew of her tremendous power. Something inside of her was keeping her powers tightly reined, and the heavy mass of it told Sesshoumaru that she had not once used her power in the fifteen years of her life.  
  
Like a whisper in the wind, he slowly became aware of an increased fervency to her mumbling. It rose and fell with tight breaths, speaking in a foreign tongue. Perking his ears forward, he caught a few words.  
  
She spoke with a dead language, a language of power. Perhaps not even she knew that it was powerful; she could merely be reciting something she read in a book, a last link to her father. Her father had taught her everything he knew, but with a gentle hand and a loving look. Not like Sesshoumaru's upbringing....  
  
But still, it did not matter. He was the new Lord of the Western lands. He had smote his father in the same manner as the rituals of successions long since past. The last fight, and yet, the first in many ways. His father had not been gentle or kind, true. But the point had gotten across and he knew how to live, and live well.  
  
He realized with a jolt that she had stopped her mumbling. She had been recalling a human eulogy, one that said correctly could raise spirits. Luckily, she had no idea how to say it correctly. Her intonations were all wrong.  
  
He pretended to ignore the soft cries from the bent, mourning body. They were merely a shadow of the wails he had heard through bloodied ears that night.  
  
Anyway, it was none of his business who she decided to raise. He was simply here to kill the girl. Kagome was fast becoming a threat to his reign (not to mention his peace of mind), and it was making him entirely too uncomfortable.  
  
How in the heavens could a girl spend ten years of her life in complete solitude? It was unthinkable. She should have killed herself through lack of human contact. Unless she had animals. Sesshoumaru supposed she could have survived this long with a few animals. They weren't human, but at least they were living creatures.  
  
The fact that she lived, that she... that the witness of his first Act was still alive, caused him to shudder. The first Act should have been kept a secret for him to have only. The fact that she even knew of it was very intimate, more so than the act of physical love. Keeping his emotions in check, he watched.  
  
She had grown up to be a beauty, by human standards. Even by demon standards she was considered palatable to the eyes, but not much over average. Pretty.  
  
Sure enough, a small, ambling, four-legged creature hazarded down the steps to the courtyard. A baby deer. Of course. He caught himself in the middle of a smirk and quickly wiped it from his face.  
  
Kagome looked up at it. Then, forcing a smile onto her tear-streaked face, she stood and went towards the animal, cooing softly.  
  
"Ammy, what are you doing out here? I thought you were sleeping."  
  
Her voice was like chopped butter. Smooth, but interspersed with strangled breathing, the only hint of her misery. The fact that she attempted to hide it from a mere animal was idiotic, but he could understand. She had to have someone to talk to, to treat like a human, or she would surely waste away.  
  
The deer looked up at her almost inquiringly, then blinked serenely and turned her attention to the girl's hand, seeking attention. Obligingly, Kagome stroked Ammy, then led her inside the church gently.  
  
Oh well. She would die from old age soon enough. It's not like she has anyone to talk to, so she wasn't much of a threat. And if she did become one, he'd kill her. Simple as that.  
  
Oh, he was fast learning to become the ruthless killer he'd known his father to be. What a teacher that strong demon was... and yet, a strong demon that mated with a disgusting human wench. His father had changed much between that wench and his last Act.  
  
There would never be a last. Not until his own son smote him, milleniums from now.  
  
Kagome sat down in front of the fire, hugging Ammy close. Then, releasing her, she turned to her worktable and stood slowly. Spears, knives, and other weapons littered it. A half-made bow rested away from the others.  
  
Mother had had a bow. Kagome used to watch her in the fields beyond the courtyard. The twang of the string as it released the arrow held the small girl mesmerized.  
  
She stroked the intricately carved wood sorrowfully, but yet with a hint of warm memory.  
  
It was almost time to go. As much as she wanted to stay with her family as she had over the last ten years, she had to find other humans. Or else she would slowly die. She could feel the weariness of despair settle over her shoulders, and it frightened her severely. Her animals over the years had been comforting, but hardly the man-to-man contact she desperately needed. Besides, they always left. And that was okay. She could hardly expect wild animals to stay with her forever.  
  
But oh... how she wished she could stay. It was safe here. There was food to hunt, vegetation to feast off of during the warm seasons. She shifted down into a thoughtful crouch, cradling her chin with her palms. Ammy would need her for a bit longer, she was not yet a doe. And the empathetic teen was loathe to bring it from its home. The girl lost herself in her thoughts slowly, immersing herself bit by bit so she wouldn't touch upon the part that never ceased to remind her of that night.  
  
A sound came from the courtyard. A dry "oomph" of something hitting the stone.  
  
The very thought of the sound sent her senses reeling and her heart pumping. Her adrenaline went sky-high, and she felt her pulse echo through her veins, her temples, her body. Ready. Ready for what?  
  
She stood swiftly, all of her senses at work as she stilled her body. Bidding Ammy silently to stay put with a placating hand gesture, she took step after silent step towards the open door.  
  
Her vision beat steadily in time with her rushing blood, and her vision became, for a split-second, disoriented and muddled. The world darkened as she blinked and a halo of light shaded the tree, the grass, and every plant and animal she could see. Before the vision went away with the next beat, she felt a strong pull from a bright halo coming from out into the outside. The grave of her family had a light, as well... but faded. As if all that held it from dispersing entirely was an outside force.  
  
Once again, she peeked out from behind the door, but not in apprehension so much as full-blown fear. Could the white-haired demon have returned? Would he kill her? She was too young. Too young. Too young!  
  
Struggling to calm her breathing, she poked one eye out and lanced it towards the sound. A bundle of clothing lay slumped on the ground, still. Shaking her bangs from her eyes, she slowly slid out from behind the door. Taking a crude slingshot out of the back of her waistband, she strung a stone, aimed, and shot all in once swift motion. She then ducked behind the door, only her eye and half of her face visible.  
  
The stone hit the thing squarely in the middle, and it groaned with agony, shifting just barely.  
  
She swiped her bangs out of her eyes, ignoring them as they fell back into place. Kagome looked at the figure with deliberation. Whispering a lone plea to some entity above, she took her faith into her heart and strode quickly across the courtyard to the side of the figure. She couldn't do it, couldn't bear to see another die in this courtyard. Kagome never wanted to shovel dirt onto someone's face ever again. Too young to see another mouth, agape, gathering dirt as the wide-open eyes stared at her accusingly.  
  
Gently, she moved the rags out of the way, to reveal a face. She couldn't see hair, only tan skin and violet eyes. The glazed eyes focused on her and widened.  
  
"A messenger from the Gods...?" he questioned before losing consciousness, mumbling.  
  
Almost panicked at the prospect of losing a fellow human to some disease or sunstroke, she hooked her elbows under his armpits and hauled him to the door. His head lolled, dirty and smudged. He made no sound as his legs hit each and every step with a "whump" that made Kagome wince and hurriedly apologize to his unhearing ears.  
  
"Sorry! ... OH! Sorry!"  
  
Biting her lip, she got him to her bed-mat near the fire. She checked him quickly, then crawled towards a jug in the corner. Filling up a cup, she half-crawled, half-walked back to the prone figure.  
  
Pausing only barely, she dashed the water into his face. It had the desired effect. He sputtered and coughed, then opened his eyes to look about blearily. His short black hair lay greasy and uncombed about his head. Kagome leaned in closely to peer at him, feeling no discomfort at the close proximity, only curiosity. When his eyes focused on hers, he blinked and reached up to touch her face.  
  
Looking at him with large, strangely innocent eyes, she allowed him.  
  
Gods, she was real, Miroku thought. She was beautiful, worried like that with her brows drawn and furrowed, he tousled, badly cut bangs hanging into her eyes endearingly.  
  
"Beautiful..." he mumbled.  
  
She drew back, shocked, maybe, at his voice. Then she looked relieved and simply ecstatic. "You are real!" she exclaimed excitedly, smiling broadly. Then she looked panicked. "Are you hurt? Do you need anything? What happened? Where are you from? What's your name?"  
  
Her questions bombarded him, giving him a light headache. Her voice, like bells, musical... but too fast. "Woah, woah... Easy." He allowed himself a laugh, but his head ached even with that effort.  
  
Her mouth opened to speak more, she subsided into silence, clapping her mouth shut. She shook her bangs out of her eyes, looking too much like a child that was about to get into serious trouble. Adorable.  
  
"I'm quite fine, just have a bit of a headache. Too much sun, I suppose. I'm from a city to the far West." He paused. "I am Miroku."  
  
Miroku. She had never heard a name beyond her family's before. He tried to sit up and she swiftly got behind him and helped push him up. "I am Kagome."  
  
Was she pushing her breasts against his back on purpose? He didn't think so. Somehow, he got the impression that she was as innocent as a five-year old. Still, he was affected uncomfortably. "A pretty name, lady Kagome."  
  
Having helped him sit, she leaned back quickly, sitting on her heels and looking at him avidly. "Thank you," she said with a nod. A strange sensation echoed through her chest at the contact, but she ignored it easily.  
  
Fascinating. She didn't blush, act coy, or otherwise flirt.  
  
Beautiful, he couldn't stop thinking that word. It fit her, however, with her open and warm face, eager to please. He wondered how eager. 'Damn your lecherous thoughts, Miroku...!' he yelled at himself in his head.  
  
"What's wrong?" she questioned quickly, and he realized he had lapsed into a silence, staring at her.  
  
He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. Ugh. Greasy. He looked at his fingers distastefully and silently made a note to ask where a bath was later. "Nothing, lady Kagome. Do you... " he looked about her, at the house, well-furnished but dusty. Unused. The work table with its odd assortment of crude yet workable tools. Her short fingernails and bare feet.  
  
Again, at the house. Empty.  
  
"You live alone?"  
  
Something bit into the happiness in her eyes, and he wished for no reason at all that he could take it back. She bit her lower lip unconsciously, then attempted a wavering smile at him as her eyes got teary. "H-hai. My family... they died."  
  
"From what?"  
  
"Demon." Her voice was soft, almost reverent. As if she had slipped into an alternate world, or time. Or experience.  
  
Oh. Silence followed, awkwardly. His mouth dropped open slightly to say apologies, anything to make it better. Eventually, he just allowed the silence to take its course for a few moments. "Wh... When, lady Kagome, if you don't mind my asking?"  
  
"I'm not sure..." she mumbled, fiddling with her too-small cloth dress. "I was five... and I'm fifteen now, so... I guess ten years ago?" Horrified, she wiped at her eyes before a tear could mark her cheek, then tried to smile again... failing miserably.  
  
"Oh my God..." he mumbled, causing her to look up.  
  
Standing abruptly, she smiled widely. "Are you hungry, Miroku?" She had a falsely cheerful voice and face, and her small clothes allowed a breathtaking view of her legs... for once a view which he didn't notice at all.  
  
"Yes, a little... but mostly I'd like a bath," he intoned blankly, his thoughts still on the girl's horrid past.  
  
"Down the hall. I'll cook something up."  
  
Miroku sunk into the steaming water with relish, a goofy smile gracing his features. The bath-house, at least, was well taken care of. Obviously, this girl did not lack for cleaning.  
  
But she did lack for family guidance. He sobered immediately at the thought. She... was orphaned at five. How did she survive for all that time? Maybe she was well-taught in hunting and foraging at a young age... it was common enough for the country family's to have their young go out and work with the rest of the family, even as early as four years old. She could have learned on her own, but that took far too much trial and error for a five-year old to survive for as long as it took. Then again, her larder could have been sufficiently stocked for a long enough time to allow for the education.  
  
However, that would explain her apparent innocence. She did have the innocence of a five-year old!  
  
Sighing, Miroku took to washing his hair. Too bad. She's the sort of girl you have wet dreams about. Of course, his was a conscience that wouldn't allow anything to happen, but he still had his hand, now didn't he? He chuckled to himself at the grossly depressing thought. He dunked his head under to wash out the soap.  
  
Surfacing, he took on another morbid thought. Where would she go? He should take her with him. But how would she get along with other people? She wouldn't know how to act, would she? He could teach her. But did he have the time? He'd make time.  
  
Egads, he thought, groaning silently to himself. If this isn't going to complicate things, I have an easy life ahead of me.  
  
"Miroku?"  
  
He nearly jumped out of his skin. Turning and taking care to shield his, uhm, bits, he turned to gape at the clearly unruffled girl.  
  
She smiled and held up a towel. "You didn't get one!" With that, she turned to go. "Dinner will be ready soon!"  
  
Miroku, however, was just left staring blankly at the now-open door. What the-- was she trying to convery a message? Maybe she WASN'T so innocent after all....  
  
Ack! He gave himself a mental head-slap. Of course! As a child, she bathed with the entire family, including her father! All kids did that.  
  
Still, it unnerved him. He felt his face grow red as he realized his body was reacting to that small moment. Sighing, he sunk into the water again.  
  
He'd have to teach her a bit before allowing her into the real world.  
  
Kagome stumbled into the cooking area, trying to put a name to the weird emotions in her. He looked embarrassed when I walked in on him, she thought wonderingly.  
  
'But then I feel strange, as well.'  
  
She felt a heat in her, a stirring of something not all that unpleasant... but uncomfortably embarrassing. Shaking her head to clear it, she bent down to look at the cooking, ignoring the heat coursing through her middle down to between her thighs.  
  
She turned at the noise of Miroku entering, wearing some old clothes of her father's.  
  
"Ah, lady Kagome...."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
He scratched his head sheepishly. How to go about this? How to tell her about the wrong-ness of walking in on someone, especially of the opposite gender, who was bathing? "Ah, never mind. What's for dinner?" he asked cheerfully instead, a sheepish expression gracing his face.  
  
He'd tell her later.  
  
A/N I had written this earlier this year, and only had now to post it. It's definitely NOT a one-shot, but I don't know how quickly I can update with all my other fics taking up time. I can probably hammer out a second chapter to this within a week, hopefully.  
  
Happy reading. 


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